From a Doe to a Fawn
by Luannie
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry is given a set of letters that his mother, Lily, wrote for him before she died. Please Review, suggestions are welcome.
1. Happy 11th Birthday

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**

**Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry is given a set of letters that his mother, Lily, wrote for him before she died. Please Review, suggestions are welcome.**

**Author's Note: This is going to be a 7-10 chapter fanfiction. Please message me suggestions as I have not completely decided the end or some of the themes. Enjoy the chapter and the Harry/Petunia & Harry/Lily fluff!**

Petunia Dursley smoothed her peach pleated skirt in an agitated manner. The boy was late. After him sending that filthy bird carrying a letter into her home she had been less than pleased. But Petunia couldn't deny that when she received said letter, she was immensely glad that Vernon was attending Dudley's Smelting's boxing match, and that he had ordered her to stay at home as a boxing ring was not 'a woman's place'. She also could not deny that when she had read her nephew's letter, she has cried upon discovering that he had defeated that terrible Lord who had murdered her sister, and survived after a year of fighting. But Petunia did not understand why she had written back and invited the boy to tea when Dudley was at his next boxing match. She blamed her irrational response to the shock of it all. Yes. She was shocked that her seventeen year old nephew had killed a man. That was it.

A knock on the door startled her. She straightened a piece of the tea set she had laid out immaculately.

"Good afternoon, Harry," she stated primly after opening the front door. The boy had grown. He was now considerably taller than her. He was still rather skinny, hair was still an abomination, and his clothes were still scruffy.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia," he said quietly. She noted that his voice was deeper. "Come and sit down. Would you like some tea?" she asked politely. The boy looked very uncomfortable.

"Please," he murmured. She led him into the living room and poured the tea, and then decided that she had to say something.

"How are you?" She could have sworn she saw an unruly smirk play on his lips before he took a sip of tea and answered.

"Um, I'm fine now, I suppose," after three more silent sips of tea, he asked "How are you?" She straightened herself up and replied.

"Very well, thank you. We are planning on moving back to Privet Drive before Christmas," The boy's face showed no emotion.

"Lovely," he replied.

"And, where are you living currently?" she inquired, resting her teacup back on its matching floral saucer.

"With my friend Ron. You know, the, er, ginger one. With his family," Petunia sniffed delicately.

"They were involved in that.. That war, weren't they?" Harry nodded,

"Yes," After a moment's pause he added, "I don't know if you remember, they had twins, the ones with the er… the flying car," Petunia sniffed again.

"Yes," she said sounding slightly revolted, "I remember," Harry set down his cup.

"One of them died," Petunia, who had just picked up her saucer promptly dropped it on the floor at this news. She shrieked. Harry presumed her distress was more to do with the large brown stain and shards of china littering her cream carpet than Fred Weasley's untimely death. He removed his wand from his jeans pocket and wordlessly repaired the cup and removed the carpet stain. Petunia's staring eyes now resembled those of a house elf. With a strangled sort of croak she thanked him.

"You're welcome. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, um, startle you," he shifted in his seat. Petunia's lips were pursed so tightly it looked as though they had disappeared altogether. "No. I just.." she seemed lost for words, "I just thought you won that… battle thing," Harry smiled slightly.

"We did. But, a lot of our side died. A lot of my classmates at school, and my godson's parents." Petunia frowned.

"I didn't know you had a godson,"

"Yes, his father was one of my Dad's best friends." An uncomfortable silence engulfed them once more.

"And Lord… erm, him, that man, he's dead?"

"Voldemort. Yes. He's dead," Harry replied very quickly.

"You… you killed him?" her lips were now so pursed and tight that she looked like she was trying to lay an egg.

"It wasn't really as simple as that. He split his soul into seven parts and concealed them, and thats where I've been the past year. Destroying them. But I didn't realise until the battle that when he tried to kill me, he put the final part of his soul into me unintentionally. So I, er, had to die so that he could be killed. So I found him and he killed me. Then I sort of woke up again and killed him," Harry was avoiding her gaze. For a few moments Petunia Dursley did not speak. She simply sat and absorbed the information that her nephew had just presented her with.

"I… I…" she seemed to be lost for words. "I… you…you died? And then killed him?" Harry nodded. "Weren't you sent to prison? Because… you killed somebody," The smirk resurfaced.

"No, Aunt Petunia. It was sort of like a public service. I got this award thing from our government. It's a bit like getting a medal from the Queen," A strange feeling swelled in Petunia Dursley, although she had no idea that Harry was referring to his Order of Merlin. For a bizarre moment she thought she was going to cry, but then she realized this was a different emotion all together, it was a feeling she had never felt or even associated with her nephew. With an internal jolt she realized it was pride.

"I am proud of you, Harry," Harry said nothing so Petunia continued, "I'm sure my sister would have been proud of you too," Petunia was horrified to see a tear roll down Harry's cheek. He was sitting, completely motionless, saying nothing. She tentatively patted his arm. It was an uncomfortable gesture between two people who were hardly close to one another.

"These were your mother's," Petunia whispered, leaning over to a side table, opening the bottom drawer and extracting a worn, large bundle of envelopes tied together with a scraggly ribbon. "I believe she wanted you to have them at.. At certain points of your life. We did not see fit to give you them, but as you are now an adult in your world I feel I can no longer keep them from you," She extended her arm and Harry took the bundle.

"Um, thanks," he muttered.

With no further words, Petunia stood and sniffed one final time, before saying "I think you should leave. Vernon and Dudley will be home soon," Harry stood, still clutching the letters.

"It was… nice to see you Aunt Petunia," he mumbled. "Goodbye," She followed him out into the hallway and opened the door.

"Goodbye, Harry," she stated forcedly.

It was only after she had closed the door and lost sight of him walking away that Petunia Dursley allowed _her_ tears to fall.

Many miles away in Ronald Weasley's bedroom at the Burrow, Harry Potter, with shaking hands, untied the bundle and read the unfamiliar writing on the first envelope. It read _'For Harry Potter on his 11th Birthday'_. Without hesitation, he tore it open and read.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy 11th birthday sweetheart. I hope you have a wonderful day filled with happiness and the people you love. In case you are wondering, I am your mother, Lily, and I heartily apologise for missing the festivities. _

_Just so we are clear - I am writing these letters in September 1981. You are one year old. I am sure you know of the wizarding war and if you are reading this letter then I unfortunately did not survive it. I am sorry. I know however, that even though you have not grown up with your Mother, you have been raised by the many people who love you. _

_Now, enough of the morbidities! Today you received your Hogwarts letter! In just over a month you'll be off to school on the Hogwarts Express. I know you may have inherited your father's knack for breaking the rules, but try not to get a detention in your first week. That'll be better that your Dad at any rate. First night, he got his first detention. Something about the staircase leading up to the girls dormitories and getting confused. He never told me what. I didn't want to know and still don't. That was the day your father met Sirius Black, who I'm sure you know and love as a second father. He probably still spends nearly every waking moment with your Dad. They were always inseparable. _

_My point is, both your father and I met our closest friends on that first day at Hogwarts. So don't judge people by first impressions or where they get sorted, but if in doubt avoid anyone who tries to smuggle dark objects, cursed objects or anything purchased from Knockturn Alley into school. In our year a boy called Mulciber had stashed no less than twelve shrunken heads and the skeleton of a Blast-Ended Skrewt into his trunk. Consequently, I did not walk over to the Slytherin table and introduce myself. _

_Thats something else: Just because someone is a Gryffindor they aren't necessarily going to be on the lookout for lives to save, a Ravenclaw won't always be buried in a book, Slytherins are not all the spawn of Satan or his fiery minions, and contrary to popular belief the majority of Huffelpuffs do in fact have backbone._

_Your classes will test you. I'm sure your father has told you of long Transfiguration theory essays and tedious History of Magic lectures, but stay focused. I know some day you will become a remarkable wizard, Harry and Hogwarts is the place that will allow you to become just that. Work hard and try not to get yourself banned from the owlery by feeding them laxatives before they deliver the morning post (your father's 'finest moment' apparently, but it certainly wasn't for those who didn't get their hoods up in time) but now enough of Daily Prophets covered in owl excrement - it is your Birthday - go and enjoy._

_Your mother wishes you the happiest first year at Hogwarts. Although I can't be there to share it with you, I will be watching you every step of the way. Good luck. I love you._

_Mummy._

_P.S. I think I will write you a letter for your twelfth birthday too now. After all, second years can play Quidditch for their houses and you will (like your Father) almost certainly regard this as the most important thing in your entire Hogwarts career._

**Please Review with suggestions of what you would like Lily to write to Harry about! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Happy 12th Birthday

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**

**Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry is given a set of letters that his mother, Lily, wrote for him before she died. Please Review, suggestions are welcome.**

**Author's Note: Thank you for the great response to the first chapter, it makes my day when people favourite and story alert my fanfictions. This chapter is shorter but the third letter is going to be a long chapter I promise! Enjoy!**

Harry took a deep breath. For the first time in over seventeen years he felt as though his mother was not just a memory. To him, she had always been a photograph that another had shown him, she had been some swirls of silver in a pensive, she had never been solid, real, alive. But Harry could not help but draw immense comfort from her words. He pictured her, only a little older than he was, writing to her son incase the worst happened. The worst _had_ happened, and that was why great sadness came with the comfort her letter brought. Lily Potter had been so adamant that her husband would survive, she had not even considered for a moment that her son would be left an orphan. Her letter was full of references, and it seemed she had left Harry with a picture of what his life with a father would have been like. Harry ignored the fact he was crying. He kept doing that lately when he was alone. He'd think and think and it would take a large wet stain on his pillow to make him finally realise that tears were falling from his eyes. He wiped the wetness for his cheeks and tore open the next letter, captioned _For Harry on his 12th Birthday._ He smiled as he saw the handwriting that was already becoming familiar. He laid back on his bed at the Burrow in Ron's bedroom and read.

_Dear Harry, _

_Happy Twelfth Birthday! I can imagine how excited you are today. I expect you have already opened your birthday present. Your father always told me that he was going to give you a racing broom the day you turned twelve, just like his father gave him. Now Quidditch is probably the first thing on your mind today. I'm sure that all you want to do is try out your new broom and practice for your house team tryout (good luck by the way! I hope you take after your Father in athletic talent, and not after me!)_

_I could tell you about how wonderful your father was at Quidditch, about his spectacular victories and the numerous Quidditch Cups that he won for his house. I won't. I will tell you how arrogant Quidditch made your father. Being exceptionally bright and very talented on a broom gave your father quite a lot of self confidence which I can safely say was not endearing. Of course, your father has grown up since then, but still, you are already so very like him, and I do not want you become big headed over the many successes I'm sure you will have at Hogwarts. _

_If you make it onto your house team (which you probably will) then do not and I mean do not be foolish enough to believe that your hair looks good after flying into the wind for an hour and a half. Your father seemed to think that the windswept-messed-up-hair look was attractive on him and he attempted to recreate said 'look' at every opportunity (or simply whenever he passed a person of the opposite sex in the corridor). You already have your father's hair and as I love and laugh at how messy it is. But for the record please never ever, EVER try to make your hair even more messy. It will not look good, it will not make girls like you and it will not make you a better Quidditch player._

_Enough motherly nagging. Actually no - one more thing - don't let Quidditch get in the way of your studies, they are the most important thing at Hogwarts!_

_Enjoy your Birthday, my darling Harry, and have a wonderful year at school._

_All of my love,_

_Mummy._

_P.S. Don't try to arrive to potions class on broom either, as impressive at it may seem, it becomes a little less stylish when you crash into a cauldron of shriveling soloution. Unfortunately your father, and godfather learned this lesson the hard way. Still, it was, I must say, one of the funniest moments of our second year._

Harry grinned to himself. Shriveling Soloution? He laughed to himself quietly and wondered what on earth had inspired his father to fly into class. He remembered that Professor Slughorn must have been taking the class and he imagined the potions master's face when one of his preciously brewed solutions had been spilled. Harry grinned again and felt a huge rush of affection for his father. _But he wasn't perfect._ He reminded himself. 'Arrogant', his mother had called him. Harry thought of the memories in the pensive he had seen in his fifth year, how his father had been cruel and conceited, he thought of the countless sleepless nights that his father's behaviour had given him. Harry reread a passage halfway down the letter '_Of course, your father has grown up since then'. _Smiling, Harry finished reading the letter for the second time. Here he was, getting upset over his father being brilliant at Quidditch. 'No,' he said. 'I'm proud. I _am_ proud,' He thanked Merlin for Aunt Petunia giving him these letters. Although it was impossible, although he had, not so long ago, rid himself of the only chance to talk to them, Harry felt as though somewhere, looking down on him, his parents were alive and happy. _And flying into cauldrons of shit. _Harry added to himself with a wry smile.

"Harry! Dinner! Tell Ron to get out of the bath!" Mrs Weasley called up the stairs. Hastily pushing the letters under his pillow, he left his room and knocked on the bathroom door.

"I'm out. I'm out!" Ron muttered grumpily on the other side of the wall.

"Honestly," Ron moaned, emerging from the bathroom, "Mum told me dinner was at eight," Harry grinned,

"Ron, mate, you've been in that bath for way to long. You look like you fell in a cauldron of shriveling soloution," Ron clearly did not get the joke.

"Why would I have a cauldron of shriveling soloution?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, enjoying the private joke he shared with his parents.

**Thanks for reading, please review! Do you think Harry should tell his friends about the letters and let anyone read them?**


	3. Happy 13th Birthday

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**

**Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry is given a set of letters that his mother, Lily, wrote for him before she died. Please Review, suggestions are welcome.**

**Author's Note: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THOSE WHO HAVE FAVOURITED/STORY ALERTED THIS FANFICTION! It really does encourage me to update more often, and I love to hear reader's feedback. This chapter had a longer letter in it, like some people wanted, so I hope you enjoy.**

After an enormous dinner Harry and Ron retreated to the latter's bedroom at the Burrow. Despite feeling content and full of delicious food, Harry couldn't help but wish, for the first time that he did not share a room with Ron.

"How was your aunt, mate?" Ron asked when they had reached his bedroom, pulling on a tatty pair of orange pajama bottoms. Harry sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Ok, I suppose. Wasn't there for very long. She gave me…" Harry hesitated, and Ron frowned. "What?" he asked.

"Erm, a hug," Harry lied unconvincingly. "Bit awkward to be honest. You know… she doesn't really like me and all that," Ron gave an indifferent sort of grunt.

"Oh. Night then," Harry reached for his own pajamas,

"Night, Ron,". He pulled them on silently, and crawled into bed. With a flick of his wand, Ron's light was off, and he waited, watching Ron's back rise and fall with his sleepy breaths by his wand light.

After what had seemed to be hours, the familiar loud snores punctured the air and Harry rested his lighted wand on his pillow. Reaching under it, he gently pulled out the pile of parchment and envelopes. His eyes grazed over the two letters he had already read. He pulled the next letter from the top of the bundle, but unlike the first two, he did not open it immediately. His fingers traced the _For Harry on his 13th Birthday._ As he remembered back to what could possibly have been one of the more pleasant birthdays that he had endured. He had been doing his homework when he had received owls from his friends, bringing gifts and birthday cards. He had sat in the seclusion of Dudley's second bedroom and had finally felt like he was having a normal birthday. He wondered, sighing, what would he have done, if, along with the owls that had arrived in the middle of the night, another delivery had been made. His eyes read the writing on the envelope once more... _For Harry, _it read. He closed his eyes and imagined the joy, the sheer undisturbed, innocent joy that he would have found that night if he had gotten his mothers letter when he was meant to. With a pang of anger, Harry realised that Aunt Petunia had obviously had the letters for years but the thought that she had seen him suffer through his birthdays and that she had not given them to him was sickening. The pair of old socks, the fifty pence piece… the Dursleys had hardly spoiled Harry over the years, but his birthdays would have been completely different if he had spent them with his Mother. Or, his Mother's words at least. With a another sigh, Harry opened the 13th Birthday envelope. _Better late than never_, he thought, bitterly.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy 13th Birthday! I can't believe it! My tiny baby son is a teenager. I am looking at you now in the cot next to my desk. I'm in the bedroom, your father is downstairs talking to Sirius through those mirrors they have. You're so tiny and you are just waking up from a sleep. You are smiling at me now. Stop it! You're trying to grab the pen._

Harry looked at a large ink splat covering the next few inches of parchment.

_That was you. You do make such a mess sometimes. I do hope you are better behaved when you are 13. Although you are a teenager now, so really, you should be moody, hormonal and rebellious, not well behaved. (Not that I want you to be moody, hormonal and rebellious, but I think I should face the reality that you will probably be, like your father, a very… boisterous teenager). _

_Now, back to being 13. Congratulations, you have survived the first part of your childhood. Being a teenager may seem exciting, but I forbid you to from becoming the kind of teenager your Godfather was. That means a reckless teen who rides around on a motorbike and goes to horrible Weird Sister concerts where people do all sorts of terrible things that my Harry should not be involved in… I'm thinking way too far ahead, aren't I? Right now, you are probably thinking: Hogsmeade, Butterbeer and practical jokes. If I'm remembering rightly that was what your father thought about in his third year at school. That, and harassing me at every opportunity! _

_I'm sure you will enjoy trips to Hogsmeade very much this year, and I'm sure you will gorge yourself on Honeydukes sweets and torture Filch with endless Zonko's dungbombs. That is of course if Filch is still the caretaker. I hope he is, he was always a good laugh, especially when James kidnapped his cat and gave it to Peeves wrapped up as a Christmas present. (Just to note I am not recommending that as a good prank to play, and I most certainly did NOT laugh when your father and his friends did this in our third year... much)._

_Also this year you will be starting new subjects, Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, Divination… the list goes on. I suggest Care of Magical Creatures knowing you, you do always seem to love it when Daddy and Sirius turn into Prongs and Padfoot, except when Prongs hung you from one of his antlers and decided it made a good makeshift cradle. Divination and I did not get on particuarly well, as our dear Professor Fartaminsta lived up to her name, meaning that you would not want to be behind her when she bent over to look at your crystal ball. That, and the small fact that my tea leaves told me every single lesson that I was destined to fall in love with a tall dark haired, hazel eyed boy meant that I dropped Divination at the first chance. Study hard as before you know it your owls will come around in a few years and you'll wish you'd paid hard attention in class. _

_Try to be responsible too. I know thats a pointless bit of advice as your Father will have given you that blasted map, and knowing you you'll be using it at every chance to cause trouble and sneak around school when you aren't meant to. All I ask is that you don't get caught. If you are going to break the rules at least break them effectively so that you get away with it. (Note: if you ever read this letter and I am not dead then I take that last bit back entirely, you should never break the rules, and if you do then you deserve to be caught)._

_This letter has been very sensible hasn't it? I'll end on a note I think you will enjoy more - Ask your father about the time he enchanted the teacher's table's Halloween feast to contain large amounts of Amortentia (very powerful love potion) and Dumbledore started salsa dancing with McGonagall on the table and then whipped out his… well, your father tells the story better than I do._

_Again, enjoy your Birthday and have a great year at school._

_All my love, Mummy._

_Actually, I should start calling myself Mum now, seen as you are a teenager and all._

_So, all my love, Mum._

Harry put the letter back in its envelope. He wondered exactly what Dumbledore had whipped out. He reminded himself that he'd never find out. His father was gone, Sirius, Remus, even Wormtail, they were all gone. _Don't complain, Harry._ He thought to himself. _You've got your Mum. _Smiling and feeling strangely warm inside, he glanced over to Ron, who was still snoring, and then turned back to the next letter.

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading and PLEASE REVIEW! It really does help to get some feedback - did you like the chapter? And any criticisms? The review button is just below, and you know you want to… ;)**


	4. Happy 14th Birthday

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**

**Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry is given a set of letters that his mother, Lily, wrote for him before she died. Please Review, suggestions are welcome.**

**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. I won't make you wait any longer. Please read the AN at the end. Love to all my readers, reviewers, favouriters and alerters.**

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy fourteenth birthday. That seems such a huge number to me. You'll be well on your way to becoming a man now (don't worry, I'm not going to give you the 'puberty' talk, I'd much rather leave that to your father and Sirius). You are now half way through your Hogwarts education and you will no doubt be studying hard soon for when you take your OWLs next year._

Harry grinned, _yeah,_ he thought, _or battling a dragon in a tournament and watching Lord Voldemort return._

_That is why I give you these very Sirius-ish words of advice - have fun this year. Play practical jokes, and sneak out after dark, because next year, trust me, you won't have time to even think the word 'fun' before someone dumps an few dozen essays on you. _

_You are now fourteen and well settled into life as a teenager, so I should probably attempt to tackle the issue that haunts all parents, whether that be parents with a teenage son, or me, watching a tiny baby sleep. I'm not going to give the full blown 'talk' as even over paper it would still be excruciatingly embarrassing for me to start talking to you about erections and fondling and such things. But I will give you a few hints from a girl's perspective on what not to do._

_Firstly, learn to take no for an answer. I probably would have gone out with your father years earlier if he had left me alone for a single minute. Every Valentines day he didn't get the message that I wasn't too thrilled to be plagued with awful garish bouquets of enchanted sparkling lilies that the Marauders seem to find very amusing, not to mention that mentally scarring poem entitled '12 things I'd like to do with Lily Evans' hair'. Also, public humiliation is never an endearing act. If you take muggle studies, which I think is a very worthwhile subject for you, considering you will have been brought up by two of the most muggle ignorant wizards alive (James and Sirius were convinced for years that a muggle fireman was in fact a phoenix under the influence of polyjuice potion mutated for animals). Anyway, in muggle studies we were instructed to write an essay on how wizards had developed muggle products into magical objects. Your father wrote five rolls of parchment on 'How Lily Evans' bra is like a golden snitch'. It was awful. He read long passages out to the class. You should, at this point, hopefully, be very ashamed of your father. Lastly, do not think that buying a girl a copy of PlayWizard with annotations such as 'this would be so much hotter if it were you' is going to woo her. I suggest friendly conversation, a sense of lighthearted humour, and between the two of us, perhaps a little Firewhisky. Hey, I'm dead, and I'd quite like to see how your father would handle you drunk. (I'm not even going to consider Sirius' response, as he would probably ask you to hand him the bottle so he could have a hearty swig)._

_I hope that you find somebody who you care about. Oh Merlin. That sounds so… Mumsy. I'm being honest, I thought I'd have over a decade before I started talking about this with you. Never mind, just be yourself. You are a charming baby so I'm sure you will become a charming teenager (hopefully you'll have stopped soiling yourself and you'll smell less like a waste disposal point)._

_Thats all really. Fourteen is one of those awkward in between years where you aren't an adult but you're well past childhood. Be prepared. In your fifteen letter I will be lecturing you about OWLs and safe sex. Not my fault! I have a motherly duty to prepare you for these things._

_Lots of Love and Hugs and Kisses_

_(I'm hoping I just embarrassed you from beyond the grave!)_

_Mum._

_P.S. Your father and Sirius called 4th year 'dos year' meaning it was, well, meaningless and required no effort and had no purpose. This is NOT true. Fourth year is absolutely crucial! I hope you do not take after them in your work ethic. Ok, nag over._

Harry looked over the words again. He felt as though he knew his mother, as though she was lying next to him reading out her words. He went to grab the next letter, and then paused, experiencing an awful sensation, like cold water was being washed over his warm insides. _The letters would not go on for ever._ His hands went to count those left and untie from the bundle, but he didn't. He didn't want to know how many he had left. It seemed ridiculous that his mother would have written a letter for every birthday he'd ever have, yet he'd just assumed that the letters would just go on and on, that he'd always be reading them. Toying between saving the next one or reading it then, he opted for the latter. _I've waited long enough._ He thought, replacing the 14th Birthday letter in it's envelope and tearing open the parchment labelled _For Harry on his 15th Birthday._

**AN (READ THIS ONE, IT'S IMPORTANT): I am now back at school after the summer so, like all of those at Hogwarts, I will be busing studying for my OWLs (GCSEs). I will be updating once a week, most likely at the weekends. Sorry for the wait on this chapter, my sister El Leon Y La Oveja is moving out so it's been a pretty hectic week.**

**Hope you enjoyed the (short) chapter.**

**If I get a good response from this I may write and post the 15th B'day letter tonight. **

**So please review!**


	5. Happy 15th Birthday

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ: I am well aware that it has been nearly six months since I wrote a chapter on any of my stories, and to those of you who were under the impression I had dropped off the face of the earth, don't worry, I haven't. I have had heaps to stuff going on, and I am genuinely so sorry that I haven't updated or even talked to any of you. I will be back to weekly updating – I PROMISE. I'm very sorry again, and enjoy the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**

**Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry is given a set of letters that his mother, Lily, wrote for him before she died. Please Review, suggestions are welcome.**

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy 15th Birthday! It is unbelievable, looking at the lovely little baby staring back at me, that you will be a teenage boy of 15 whole years when you read these words._

Harry could not read the next few lines as they were obscured by a large ink splodge. His tired green eyes scanned the page and found the next few legible words.

_Oh sorry, Harry. You only have yourself to blame. I suppose you can't really help it, the ink bottle is the exact same colour as one of those blackberry flavoured baby potions Daddy feeds you. I suppose i'm going to have to call him Dad now aren't I? Never mind, i'm sure this little misbehaving streak will pass. If it hasn't you will just have to repress it this year, as you have your OWLs coming up. I know it is your birthday and you will undoubtably be spending time with family and friends – but its NEVER too early to start revising! Honestly, take today to yourself, and tomorrow, crack on with working at your OWL subjects – trust me, it will all be worth it when you see those little 'O's on your results sheet!_

_Your father and Sirius seemed to think fifth year was a bit of a joke, and they certainly got away lucky, it's a miracle they gained any OWLs between the two of them! If I recall, OWL year was spent by your Father trying to humiliate me in more ways than were humanly possible, with the occasional run in with the Headmaster due to his appalling conduct in lessons (in my opinion, his low point was when he tried to turn a friend of mine's nose into a parrot beak and ended up giving himself a beak protruding out of his genitals that squawked continuously – Sirius claims to have swallowed a tooth laughing). Sirius on the other hand, spent 5th year using his genitals in a far more sinister way. I hate to embarrass you, but at 15, I feel you need to hear these things. _

Harry noticed another slightly smaller ink splodge, and carried on, feeling his heart sink a little at the mention of Sirius, whose name still gave him a short sharp pang of pain somewhere deep in his stomach.

_Sorry, that was you again. I've put you in your cradle in the kitchen for a little sleep, I didn't really feel I could write about growing up etc whilst watching your baby self sleep! Anyway, Sirius got himself a rather dreadful reputation in our 5th year for being a notorious womaniser. He went on some sort of hormonal rampage – it was like he was trying to constantly beat his own record of how many girls he could get. I know that it isn't something he is entirely proud of, now that he has a little more sense (only a very tiny little bit more, unfortunately) so if he boasts about it don't believe him! There is nothing to be proud of in breaking a heart! My good friend Marlene was one of the poor girls who were ensnared in Sirius' charms. Needless to say he picked her up and dropped her and move onto the next without a second thought about her feelings. I love Sirius to pieces now, but he certainly went through a bit of a stage and it certainly isn't what I want for my Harry!_

_Anyway – my message is: Don't mess around with girls this year. Treat them with respect – it will be worth it in the long run! _

_Another thing I want to remind you of briefly (you do have birthday celebrations to get back to after all) is to make sure in all the hype of exams and Hogsmeade trips, girls and (in you'r father's case) terrorising the entire school population with pranks, you do not forget your friends. Something truly terrible happened to a friend of mine at the end of 5th year and it cost me a friendship I fear I will never ever restore to it's formal glory. _

_I won't bore you with the whole story, if you want to know ask your father (not Sirius, he will undoubtably give you an incredibly biased account) what happened with Severus after our Defence Against The Dark Arts OWL. Severus was having a bit of trouble with your father and Sirius and the rest of their friends, I was incredibly close to Severus so I stood up for him. I don't to this day understand why he reacted in the way that he did, but he became very angry at me and called me, well, I think you are old enough to hear it, he called me a mudblood. Perhaps that word doesn't have the same meaning or taboo as it did in my schooldays, but back then it was pretty much the most unkind and horribly offensive thing your could say to a muggle born. I was hurt so very deeply. Your father did seem to care, but I blamed the who incident on him at the time. Now I see that it wasn't all your father's fault, and when you hear the full story from him, don't judge him too harshly. Your father made it up to Severus in his own time, and Severus has committed far too many wrongs in the time since then to play the part of the victim. _

_Its only just occurred to me that your father may not have mentioned who Severus is. They were never friends, and if he isn't around still, or if he too has not made it through this terrible war, it is quite likely you have never heard of him. He was a very good friend of mine, my best for the first few years at school. He was misjudged and he didn't have an easy time. He got into a bad lot and ended up causing a lot of trouble, your father will explain all of that to you, I suppose. However, I don't suppose you will ever meet him, but, if you ever did, or do, or if you ever get an address of his, do me a favour and just tell him that I forgive him for everything and that I truly did love him despite what has transpired between us._

_Enough of my moaning – what I want to say, is choose your friends wisely, and keep them close to you. In times of stress and trouble you need nothing more than a few good friends that have your back to survive. _

_I'll let you get back to your birthday now, my lovely grown up son._

_I wish you all the best this year, a very happy birthday, and GOOD LUCK IN YOUR OWLS!_

_Don't forget to work hard._

_All the love in the world._

_Mum._

_P.S. Also remind your Father that the legal drinking age is 17, and although he and Sirius seemed to think once they were 15 they could drink themselves silly in their dorm every weekend, I will not allow the same to happen to my son! Stay away from fire whiskey, I beg you!_

Harry took a deep breath. The letter had been considerably longer than the previous four, and for that, he was immensely grateful. He could hear his mother's words ringing softly in his ears. In the darkness of Ron's bedroom, the only things Harry _could_ hear were Ron's loud snores falling in a regular pattern, puncturing the still air, and the occasional rustle of tree leaves from outside the bedroom window. Harry stared at the bundle of letters on the faded patchwork pillowcase, and then at the one open in his hand. His mother seemed to take a very different viewpoint on the incident with Snape than what her behaviour in the pensive had portrayed. He realised that she too had probably gone through a similar process to him – hating James for what he had done, and slowly accepting it. He read the last few lines concerning Snape, and he felt an intense rush of sheer and utter sorrow. He thought back to Snape's dying moments. How much of a comfort would it have been, for Harry to give Snape his mother's message? Perhaps if he had shown Snape the letter in his fifth year, when he was intended to read it, everything would have changed. Perhaps Sirius would still be alive, or Lupin or Fred? But it was too late, Harry knew that. He would never be able to tell Snape the one thing he had longed his whole sorry life to hear – that Lily Evans had loved him.

Harry looked down at the letter and put it back in its envelope. Feeling strangely let down and empty, he decided to save the next letter for the morning, when hopefully he would feel a little more cheerful. Carefully placing the letter back in the bundle, and quietly placing them in his bedside table, closing the drawer slowly so as not to wake Ron, he laid back against his pillows on his back.

With a sigh he thought of his mother. For a moment, he let himself pretend that he was living the life she thought he would have had without her, a life of his father and Sirius.

Harry fell asleep quickly, and dreamed blissful happy thoughts of birthdays with people who loved him.

**This chapter is a little longer than usual, I hope you enjoyed it. I felt the letter went on for a very long time – please review and tell me, do you like longer letters, or longer descriptions of Harry reading and reacting to them? If I get 3 reviews on this chapter, i'll write the 16th birthday letter tonight!**

**Luannie**


	6. Happy 16th Birthday

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ: Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter. Seen as I hadn't posted for half a year, to get four reviews only an hour after the chapter was published really put a smile on my face. I know I completely and utterly broke my promise about writing once a week, but I've had my end of school exams that determine basically what I do for the rest of my life, so fanfiction has had to take the back burner for a while. On an extremely happy note – my exams are over and I have a three month summer, off school, where I have nothing to do but write to my heart's content. Next chapter should be up over the weekend – you can count on that :) I'm sorry again for my slacking, please forgive me.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**

Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry is given a set of letters that his mother, Lily, wrote for him before she died. Please Review, suggestions are welcome.

Harry woke up; slightly dazed. He had slept well, for the first time since his Godfather had died, he had had a good, long uninterrupted nights sleep. No nightmares, no seeing dead faces, no Fred, no Remus, no Tonks, no Voldemort; dying and bloody. It was only after Harry had thought about it, that he realised not a night had gone by without seeing those snakelike pupils staring into his mind in his haunted dreams. That is, until the night before. Harry searched his refreshed mind, he had dreamed. It flashed back to him like a lightening bolt. His letters, and the dream that had followed. His beautiful dream of family and celebrations and his mother, real, alive, in front of him. Telling him stories and memories, not through parchment and ink, but from her own mouth.

He rolled over feeling content, his eyes being met with the sight of a sleeping (and snoring) Ron. Having a short mental battle with himself, he could not decide whether to read another letter of save them. He hadn't looked at all of the envelopes and the birthdays they were addressed to, but in a way, he was desperate to keep an element of surprise to the letters. He liked the fact that he didn't know what each letter entailed. What thrilled him further was the fact that he had noticed a few blank envelopes at the back of the bundle.

As eager as he was to tear each and every envelope open in that very moment, and utterly immerse himself in his mother's words, he had to keep reminding himself that _this was it_. After this all of his mother's words would have been read, and the letters would become familiar to him. He knew eventually the letters would become words permanently engraved in his mind; he would have read them time after time, he knew than night after lonely night he would turn to them for comfort – only this time, the first time, would the letters contain the completely unknown. Only now were the letters a message from his mother. After he had read them for the first time they would be like so many other items he owned – remnants of other lives, relics of people long gone, memories.

Harry dressed, quietly, so as not to wake Ron. He briefly pondered the idea of waking him, showing him the letters and launching into a whirlpool of happiness, sharing these precious memories with someone he hoped would understand. _But Ron wouldn't, _Harry admitted to himself. Harry knew that despite being his best friend, Ron was too buried in his grief for Fred too take any interest in Harry's newly acquired source of joy. He also considered Hermione as he pulled on his socks – the heart wrenching image of Dobby still flashing behind his eyes as he pulled the warm woollen garments over his feet; But no, Hermione wouldn't do either. Nobody would understand. Sirius would have. Lupin would have. Dumbledore would have. Even Ginny would provide some interest, but she, like Ron, had far darker matters on her mind.

Tucking the bundle of parchment in his pocket and opening the bedroom door, he left the snoring Ron behind and crept downstairs, glancing at the family clock, and then his watch. It was early, and the sun was still a soft haze behind the hills as he cringed at the loud creaking of the back door. He took a breath of the fresh morning air and made his way over to a bench by the chickens, taking care not to wake the cluster of gnomes snoozing peacefully in one of Mr Weasley's scuffed wellington boots.

He retrieved the next piece of parchment, not tempting himself by getting out the entire bundle, and barely paused to read the _For Harry on his 16__th__ Birthday_ on the envelope, before tearing it open, stuffing the envelope under his leg so it didn't blow away in the slight morning breeze, and reading the neatly written words on the page in front of his eager green eyes.

_Darling Harry,_

_Happy 16th Birthday! I cannot believe it! I know 16 isn't a big age in the wizarding world, and you are probably far more excited for this time next year, when you are of age, but to muggles, 16 is pretty important._

_You can do all sorts at 16 in the non magical world, for example, get married with your parent's permission. Of course that is a terrible idea and I think you should wait at least ten years to get married. I know I can hardly talk, I married young, yes, but in the times I live in now, we all must live each day like it is our last. And I will also have you know I did turn down your father on numerous occasions. In fact, on my 16th Birthday your father discovered the marriage law, forged a note of permission from our parents and asked me if I would allow Remus to marry us using his 'prefecting power'. Naturally I refused, but I eventually gave in, but by that time I was sure that your father wasn't the idiot he pretended to be around Sirius._

_I know you also won't want to hear this on your birthday, but your NEWT studies start this year. You won't take the exams until your 7th year, but the learning you do this year is absolutely crucial. You must stay focused and choose your subjects wisely. You of course will want to keep up your extra-curricular activities, but school comes first!_

_My 6th year at Hogwarts was a difficult one; you know who was gaining more and more power and the school, muggle-borns like myself especially, were starting to worry. We heard rumours and horror stories of what was happening beyond the safe walls of the castle, but it is hard to say if we really believed it or not. Those school days were so innocent and happy that I am glad in a way, of my ignorance, as it allowed us all to enjoy the last few years of peace, before the fighting started. I'm sorry – you don't want to hear this do you? Dear me, and also, you probably know all of this. I expect you are taught it in defence against the dark arts! I can just imagine you toiling over an essay on you know who and complaining about it – be grateful you didn't have to fight him! No, really, enjoy this year. Enjoy being a teenager in a world of peace, that's all I could really hope for you. All I want is for you to grow up in a world better than the one I grew up in. I want the biggest thing for you to worry about is whick broomstick to nag your dad to buy you, or what to wear on a date to hogsmeade (although, if you are anything like your father you won't give a flying house elf what you wear, and you'll turn up in those bloody quiddich robes). I don't want you to think about duelling or dark magic, you'll come across that in the future, as unfortunately I'm sure there will always be bad wizards around, but for now, enjoy your youth and freedom._

_Try not to be too difficult for your father and Sirius. I know you are nearly 17 and therefore nearly an adult, but you still will be living under their roof, and therefore you must respect your elders. Sirius and your dad were really terrible at 16 – Sirius was never found without a girl on each arm and a snide remark for the teachers, and your father was nearly as bad, pranking anything that moved and completely disregarding anything closely or loosely resembling a school rule._

_Have a wonderful birthday. Eat cake, have fun and laugh lots. Make sure to thank merlin for all you have – there are always those less fortunate than you somewhere._

_All my love,  
>Mum<em>

__Harry set the letter down and reached for the next. He couldn't help himself; he needed to feel his mother's comfort surround him. Glancing up at the burrow to ensure he was alone, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the top letter.

**END NOTE: I am begging you, please review. You have no idea how much it spurs me on to update and write chapter after chapter. Please send any suggestions for the development of this story – I am also planning a spin off story to accompany this series of letters, so please give any comments on what your would like to read concerning that. Thank you so much. Now hit the button below and tell me what you are thinking. Love you all.**


	7. Happy 17th Birthday

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ: I received 6 Reviews on chapter six within the first few hours! Thank you so much, it is the best response i've had to any chapter! A big shout out to AmbulansContradicionem who sent a really helpful long review – Thanks again! I am posting this pretty late at night, but two chapters in one day? Can I get an Amen? Haha! Enjoy the chapter, take tissues. I'm not afraid to say I cried while writing this.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**

Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry is given a set of letters that his mother, Lily, wrote for him before she died. Please Review, suggestions are welcome.

_My darling grown up Harry,_

_Happy 17__th__ Birthday! Heavens, I cant even picture what you look like (well I can, a 17 year old James no doubt). Congratulations on becoming an adult in the wizarding world and coming of age! I'm sure you are just thrilled at the prospect of apparating, doing your NEWTs, then leaving Hogwarts and getting a job! It may sound daunting, but I know you will be just fine. I also know I would be so proud to see you all grown and matured. Haha! Don't mature too much yet – at 17 your father and Sirius were at their worst, you couldn't even go near them without being hexed or hit with one of their ghastly made up curses. As you are 17 now I'm sure Sirius will teach you his favourite, a spell that turns all the clothes on a person invisible. Sirius tried to hit me with it one day, but thankfully I ducked in time. Unfortunately, Remus, who was standing behind me, didn't get out of the way anywhere near swiftly enough. It was one of the funniest moments of my life to date. Poor Sirius has never lived down James' constant teasing that he intended to hit Remus. He still hums 'a cauldron of hot strong love' whenever they enter a room together now._

_Enough reminiscing, today is all about you. The world is your oyster. I really feel I should apologise about my absence today – I feel that I should be embarrassing you by getting out your baby photos, or smothering you with kisses in front of your friends. Birthdays are, after all, the days when mothers are meant to be on their best humiliating behaviour! It makes me sad that these letters are the only communication I can have with you on your birthdays; they are such special days and I can't bear the thought that you are celebrating them without the person who brought you into this world. _

_But, know this – it will have been worth it – I will have died making the world you live in better. I do it for you. There was a time when I fought you know who for my school, a time when I fought him for my friends, for James, even for myself. Now, as I right this, I am preparing for battles that I will fight for one person and one person alone: you. My baby, my son, my grown up boy who will be reading this as a man, not the sleeping infant that I hold close at night. I do it all in the knowledge that my death will save another, and perhaps my death may lead to the eventual demise of the one we all seek to defeat, not you know who, but evil itself.  
><em> 

_More than the above; please never forget this – although I do not know how I will die, the fact you are reading this means I have, and although you will know more about my death than I do writing this now, I know one thing for sure – I will have thought of you. It doesn't matter if I meet my maker by eating a dodgy liquorice wand or if I lose my life to you know who himself; I will die thinking of you. I will picture your sweet, chubby, angelic little face as I take my final breath. I will also picture you. You, the wizard reading this. The grown, matured, beautiful young man I know you will become. I will picture everything you have __been, and everything you will be. I will think of the first time I felt you alive inside of me, kicking, and I will think of you as an old grey haired man. I will close my eyes and think 'Harry' and I will not be afraid of death. If you take one thing from my letters take this – My love for you will keep us both safe. Nothing can undo it or tarnish it. Even though you won't remember me, I know my love for you will live on. _

_Sirius once said to me 'Those who love us can never truly leave us' and he told me that our lost friends can always be found within our hearts. He told me that after my best friend Marlene was killed (I know it may be almost unbelievable but in a crisis, Sirius really is the man to turn to. More than that he actually, very rarely I admit, comes out with some very wise words. I know you probably think of him as your reckless cheerful Godfather, but also know that if you ever feel down, ask him about what he told me after Marlene died. I can guarantee he will be of great comfort to you). I was broken but here I am today, still fighting for what I believe. _

_I'm sorry for that awful morbidity, on your birthday as well, but I feel it is crucial you know why I died, and most importantly what I died for. _

_My letters now must come to an end. Don't laugh, but i'm a tad emotional now. I can't bear the thought that these are the last words I can send to the future Harry, and that I can be of no more use to you than this final page. I could, and trust me, I would gladly sit here and write you a letter for every birthday, no, every day, of what I hope will be your long happy life, but we both know that wouldn't be right. To you, right now, i'm dead. I need to stay that way. The dead should stay dead, as ghosts are never truly happy. My letters would become a burden, and as time rolled on I would become a ghost to you – and that isn't going to work – I want you to live your life without my shadow following you. Forget my death and the dark times I write this in, because I believe with every fibre of my being that you will read this in a time of light. Bask in that light. Enjoy it. Let the dead be dead and be thankful for the moments you had with them. Do not mourn, celebrate. Celebrate the joy they gave you and the joy you gave them. Know that I will always be with you, like Sirius said, in your heart._

_I don't know what I will do today, perhaps I will give you a bath. You are covered in ink and James will just make a mess of the house if he tries to wash it off you. Best leave the messy jobs to Mummy! Yes, i'll give you a bath and i'll let you play with your blasted toy broomstick. You are such a terror while in the air, but you smile and laugh so much that I can't help but let you wreck the room – it is worth it!_

_Well there we go, that is my day all planned. I hope you have a wonderful birthday and I hope you finally understand the stranger that is your mother.  
>I adore you, I am proud of you, and most of all; I love you.<br>Mummy.  
><em> 

Harry couldn't help it. He didn't feel himself crumple the letter into his pocket. He didn't feel himself sink off of the bench onto his knees. All he felt were the sobs that overcame his entire being. He cried like he had never cried before. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was probably making an awful noise and was waking the Weasleys, but that seemed so irrelevant. He had mourned Sirius, Lupin, Fred, but nothing compared to this. For the first time in his sorry, sorry life, Harry Potter mourned his mother. Not Lily, not the woman he had heard so much about, but his mum, the woman who had cleaned ink off of him, and who signed her final letter 'Mummy'. The woman who he felt he was finally close to, after years of searching.

**End Note: THIS STORY IS NOT OVER! There is more happening and some very exciting developments. Although Lily's letters are all read, there are still a few other envelopes in Harry's pocket that I cannot wait to share with you. I have already planned a prequel/companion story that I will start to post in a few weeks when this story has been concluded. Thanks so much for reading and please REVIEW. It really isnt hard to just push that little button and write a few words or thoughts. It really does mean so much, and because of your reviews yesterday, I was spurred on to write this chapter today. Like I said, just press that button – you know you want to ;)**


	8. From a Doe to her Stag

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ: Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter. I now give you this, the penultimate chapter of this story. It's been wonderful writing for you and the last chapter is half written, and goodness me its emotional! This letter is a bit of a wild card and sparks a different reaction in Harry. I hope you enjoy.**

_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**_

It may have been hours later, or minutes, Harry did not know. As he finally dried the final tears off of his blotchy cheeks, he decided that this was it. This morning, outside the burrow, he would finish reading whatever else he had been given, and get it done once and for all. He knew now, that stringing this process out would not prolong his Mothers life, she had been dead for years, and nothing could truly bring her back. With steely determination and a new calmness spreading through him, Harry reached into his pocket and took out the second to last envelope. He took a double take as he read the now familiar writing belonging to his mother, and frowning slightly, ripped open the parchment.

_James, _

_If you are reading this, I didn't make it. I'm so sorry my darling. I tried, lord knows, these past few months i've fought harder to survive than I ever have, or would wish for anyone to have to, but these are the circumstances we are in. _

_I wrote Harry some letters, for some of his birthdays, in case I didn't survive, which, clearly, I haven't. Give them to him, I thought they might be of some comfort to him, when he is old enough to understand. Anyway, writing them got me thinking that perhaps I could write you a letter too. Leaving you will be the hardest thing i'll ever do, and I hope that you know that I will have died loving you with all my heart, and hating you and laughing at you and I don't think i'll ever quite understand how I ended up married to you but somehow I did, and it made me so very, very happy._

_I don't quite know when it changed, sometime around 5th year I think, although it took me months to admit it to myself. I fell in love with you and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. Your silly pranks, your hair, your arrogance, I finally had to admit that they were all things that drew me to you, and of course, after I had accepted those things, I started to notice all of your truly wonderful traits; your loyalty, your honesty, your compassion and that glorious sense of humour. I must say I always liked the attention, don't get me wrong, you had your irritating moments, james, but it was nice to grow up knowing someone cared._

_I dont quite know how you will cope with Harry without me, the thought is quite hysterical. That is something that will bring me great comfort I think, knowing that I can watch over you, seeing your failed attempts at changing smelly nappies and trying to work out how to plug in the baby monitor._

_Oh, James, i'm going to miss seeing you with Harry. He was the greatest gift you could ever have given me, and from now until forever I will be grateful for that gift. I remember telling you I was pregnant; James, you were so scared, but what I didn't tell you, was, so was I! I was petrified that I suddenly had to grow up, and we were so young, oh God, james, we are still so young. And if im honest with you, I don't want to die. Im not scared, I just don't want to let it all go, not yet. _

_In a funny, perverse, roundabout way, these last few months, my final days, they have been some of the best of my life, because under the fear and the duels and all of the fighting, I had everything I needed to be happy. I had you and I had Harry and I had our friends and what more could I ask for? In this cottage, I feel like I have a safe haven. I feel like no one can touch me here, no one can hurt me. I have my perfect family and I will forever treasure these memories. You trying to build Harry's first cradle with Sirius without magic, and you ended up breaking his nose. Harry vomitting over Sirius' motorbike helmet and you lying and telling him it was my potato stew that had spilled. Last Christmas when for one day we felt like everyone had stopped fighting just for those few hours._

_We have had our glory days, James. You, me, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene, Frank, Alice. We have been lucky. You cant deny that. And slowly that must come to an end. Nothing that good, that perfect, can last. We had our golden age, that final year at Hogwarts, we ruled the world, or at least it felt like we did. We were free and young and reckless and had the world at our feet, and it would be greedy to ask for any more._

_Tell Harry I love him. And that I'm sorry. Oh God, James, i'm so sorry that you are going to have to raise him on your own. I love you both so much. But you'll have Sirius, and Remus and Peter and I know there wont be a more loved baby in all of England. I know you'll take care of him, and feed him and change him and make him eat his vegetables.. and you know the rest James.. I trust you. I know you'll be such a wonderful parent to him, and if he grows up to be half the man you are i'll be watching over the both of you bursting with pride._

_I love you so much. My husband, my best friend, my everything._

_Thank you for all you have done, and all I know you will do in my absence._

_My heart always has, and always will, be yours,_

_Lily._

Harry felt strange. Like he had just walked in on something private that shouldn't have been witnessed. He felt as though he had just seen an extremely intimate moment between his parents. It was so strange, so, so strange, to hear his parents talking about him as a baby. It had been strange enough coming from his mother to him, but it was even more confusing to imagine his mother, not as a mother, but as a wife, a wife who lost her husband.

Harry found himself once again picturing this life, the life his mother thought she was leaving him in, with a father and godfather who could raise him and care for him. Bitterly, he thought of the Dursleys and the stark difference between what had been planned for him, and the life he had led for the past 17 years.

Harry suddenly thought of something that had not crossed his mind over the past few days, days when all he had lived for were letters and words of wisdom from his mother. He considered the notion that Aunt Petunia may have read the letters. They were sealed, but Harry knew that nosey Petunia had been opening Vernon's bank statements and work letters for years, and had long ago mastered the art of skilfully re-sealing an envelope. He toyed with the parchment in his hands and came to the conclusion that she couldn't have read this letter, for surely, if she had ever known the love that his mother felt for his father, the love that was evident in this letter, surely she wouldn't have spoken so harshly of him, branding him a drunk, a wast of space, a freak. Surely not, Harry thought, but then again his perception of Aunt Petunia had changed so drastically in the past week that he felt sure of very little about her now.

He exhaled. He felt confused, as if this letter had not brought him the comfort the others had, as he realised how selfish he had been. All along, he had pitied himself, pitied himself for losing his parents, but they _weren't _just his parents. They were Sirius' best friends, Dumbledore's favourite students, Petunia's only family. It was as though a final piece of the puzzle had been laid. The final piece that completed his parents life, and finally, finally Harry could understand his mother's sacrifice, and why it had protected him in such an astounding way. Lily Potter had sacrificed herself knowing that her letters, her plans her hopes were all false now. She had died knowing James was dead, thinking her friend had betrayed them, knowing that her son would now be alone, and no letters, no words, no written declarations of love could ever save him from the fate he would endure. She had given up everything she had, everything her husband had, all for Harry. She had not just given her whole life as a sacrifice, she had given her entire world.

Harry stared blankly at the words. For years to come this particular letter would continue to play on his mind, confusing him slightly, leaving him heavy hearted. He did not know it yet, but Harry Potter would never read this particular letter ever again. He would keep it with the others, treasured, hidden, protected. But it would never be opened again.

The same was not true for the next, and final letter Harry would read. This letter would make all the difference, this letter would be one Harry would come to read so much he would know the words off by heart eventually.

But, Harry did not know this, but his heart did skip a beat when he moved on to the last envelope in his pocket, and found handwriting that was sickeningly familiar to him own, scrawled on the front.

_'For Lily, Harry, Sirius, Remus and Peter'_ it read.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ: CLIFFHANGER :D I'm still not sure about this chapter, like Harry, I was left feeling a little strange after writing it. Answer me this, please – do you think this IS how Harry would have reacted, or would he have interpreted this letter in a different way. I am starting to work on the final chapter and sequel – any and all suggestion for the sequel are welcome, PLEASE REVIEW WITH IDEAS! Thanks so much for reading. If the response to this chapter is good, i'll post the final chapter tomorrow.**


	9. The Stag's Goodbye

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ: I'M SO SORRY! I apologise for the delay in this chapter but those of you who live in the UK will understand the level of work that A Levels require – in short i've been waiting until the right time to finish this chapter, and this story, and do it justice. Please enjoy this chapter. Thanks again for your patience, kind reviews, and for reading!**

_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**_

_'For Lily, Harry, Sirius, Remus and Peter'_ it read.

Harry didn't pause. He needed to know what this letter said. To him, and to the others mentioned. It seemed to be a crucial piece in his understanding of his own life, and he didn't have a single doubt of who's hand this was – scribbly, spidery, small and cramped. It certainly wasn't his, although it could easily pass for it. There was only one other person he could imagine that wrote like this. His father.

_Lils,_

_I don't know how i'm going to get this to you but I just wanted to leave a little goodbye incase all doesn't go to plan over the next few months. I know you're uneasy with this whole secret keeper thing but I trust my friends with my life, and yours, and Harry's, trust me Lils, they won't let us down. _

_Anyway, if I don't make it, I just wanted to say thanks, and, well, sorry for being such a dick to you when we were young. I probably drove you mad with all my pranks and stuff but, well, you made me the happiest man alive by marrying me and giving me the most perfect son, like, ever. I'm really really grateful and I love you so much. I know that you'll get by just fine without me, I mean think about it, at least the toilet seat won't be left up if I croak it! No, really, I love you Lily._

_Harry, _

_Hi. I'm your dad. If your reading this you probably won't remember me because you're just a baby at the moment but I just wanted to write this to say sorry that I couldn't be around. I'm sorry that I'm going to miss a lot of stuff, you know, your first broomstick ride and helping you with your first day at school, but know that your dad died for a really important cause, and he was happy to do so. I'm not worried about you really, because even without me, you'll be raised with the best mum ever. Don't ever shout at her or give her a hard time or anything because she loves you so much and she does everything for you. Look out for her, because I think she'll be quite sad that i'm not there to see you grow up. It doesn't matter because you'll have Sirius. Sirius is your godfather, but I suppose, you'll already know that reading this wont you... anyway, Sirius is the absolute best. He's my best friend and I know that he'll be a dad to you when I can't. Never EVER take him for granted because he's a really good guy to have around in a tight spot, and, i'm sure he'll have lots of great stories to tell you about the times he had with your old dad. I wish you all the best in life, Harry. Be a good man. Make me proud. _

_Oh, and P.S. You are the coolest baby ever. You stuck my wand up the cat's bum yesterday, and managed to turn him all feathery in the process. It was too funny for words. You are a little baby prankster and I love you for it._

_Sirius,_

_Oh Merlin, Padfoot, if your reading this I really mucked up and managed to get myself killed, which means back luck, mate, the torch is passed to you. You've got to look after Lily and Harry. I know thats a lot to ask, but he's gonna need a dad and I can't think of anyone i'd rather have take care of my kid in my place than you. You've been the best friend a man could ask for Sirius, and i'm so so so grateful to you for all the times where you've backed me up and helped me out and told me to get my shit together when no one else had the balls to tell me. You've saved my life more times than I can count and you made my teenage years one hell of a ride that I wouldn't swap for anything. You're my family, and don't laugh, but I love you. I think we both know that already. When you got sorted into Gryffindor my life changed, and yours too, and I probably would have done a lot better in school and pissed a lot less people off if you hadn't have been, but that doesn't matter. I think it got to a point when we thought that we could make it through this war easily, no scratches, but I think i've grown up and well, clearly I didn't make it. Thats ok. Because i've got you. And you can do all the stuff I can't now. You can tell Harry about the marauders and you can be a hero and i'll be a legend that got lost in the carnage. Best friends like us, Sirius, don't ever die. I'll be immortal. I'll live forever. I'll live through you. You can remember your old friend James and it'll be like i'm still there. I know that you won't let me die in your mind and I know you won't forget me. I really do love you, mate._

_Remus,_

_Hi Moony. Looks like I really did it this time. I hope that I died in a really funny way so that you can shake your head at my stupidity and do that 'oh merlin, James, you're so reckless' face that you used to do whenever I got into trouble at school. No, jokes aside, I'm sorry to leave you, and I want you to know that just because your not the secret keeper it doesn't mean that I don't trust you because I do. I trust you with everything because you are honestly the best kind of friend a guy could have – you've never ever let me down, never. Not when I need you to save my arse in a battle or when I needed to copy your charms homework at school. You've always had my back and i'm really grateful for that. You need to make sure that the three of you stick together without me, you can do that. You know that if I die Sirius will go mental for a bit and you can calm him down, and look out for peter. Make sure that Harry isn't as bad as we were – don't get me wrong Remus, he needs to have the cloak and the map and all that stuff and you need to tell him all our best prank ideas, but make sure he tries hard and does well as well. I really think you'll be good for him. Good ol' uncle Moony. You cope really well you know, with you furry problem, and we probably don't give you enough props for it, but you really are a strong person. I don't know how i'd cope with what you cope with. You're a top guy, Remus, and i'm proud to call you one of my best friends._

_Peter,_

_I want to start off by saying sorry. For all the times that I took the piss out of you at school, and well, all the times after that as well. I'm sorry for laughing when you had to take remedial first year potions three times until you scraped an Acceptable in fourth year. I'm sorry laughing when Laura Gripp said she'd rather kiss a mandrakes hairy big toe than you. I'm just sorry Wormy, for all the times that I laughed when actually, I should have been patting you on the back for being such a good sport. You took all of our teasing and you still stayed true to us. I can speak for all three of us when I say that we might have taken you for granted once, but we don't anymore. I appreciate you Peter and I want to thank you for what you are doing for me and Lily and Harry. He's lucky to grow up with someone like you looking out for him. I hope one day you can talk to him about me, with remus and sirius, and the four of you can remember me fondly. Thank you._

_James._

_P.S. Divide my stuff up amongst you. Sirius, you get my broom, Lily, sell anything else of any value, and make sure Harry gets all the marauder stuff. Prongs over and out._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ: That's all folks. There is an epilogue already written that I will post this evening, because, well, I really don't want From a Doe to a Fawn to be over yet. This was my first multi chapter fiction and i'm not ashamed to say that i'm proud that i've actually finished it. Thank you to the people who have read and reviewed. I would love to hear what your thoughts are on James' letter. This was SO hard to write, so i'd love any criticisms/feedback. **


	10. Epilogue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ: Here it is – the epilogue. Thank you so much to those who have supported this story and taken the time to read it, it has been a pleasure to write.**

_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.**_

Eventually the tears subsided and Harry sat up. He took a breath. He thought of the other envelopes in his pocket, of his parent's last words and his father's goodbye. He spent long long minutes rereading James Potter's final message to the people he loved most. He suppressed the anger at the words directed to Wormtail. That was something he could deal with another time. He knew that right now, he needed to live in the present. For the past days he had lived in the past, in the world of his young mother and now his father too, but now reality had caught up with him and he had to do exactly what Lily had said, move on. Not forget, but put aside. Wiping his wet face on his sleeve, he brushed himself off and made his way inside.

Molly Weasley saw that Harry was headed to the kitchen door. She pitied the boy. After coming downstairs and hearing his sobs, and looking out of the window to see him crying on the ground in her garden, she finally realised that it was not only her family that were suffering. Her Fred was not the only one who had been taken from the world. She was not the only one who was in pain at that moment. She wiped a stray tear from her own cheek and set the kettle boiling with a flick of her wand. Harry opened the back door and looked a little shocked to see her.

"Harry dear,"  
>She walked towards him and encompassed him in a warm embrace.<br>"You poor thing, have some tea, there you go, sit down, there's a good boy,"  
>Ushering Harry to a seat, she sat down opposite.<br>"I'm sorry Mrs Weasley," Harry started, "I just, er, needed some air,"  
>Molly smiled sadly.<br>"Yes, dear, I think we all need a little bit of time alone to think at the moment,"  
>Harry was unsure how to respond, so he nodded softly.<br>The kettle interrupted the long silence by boiling, and soon enough two steaming mugs of tea were being sipped by the only two awake residents at the Burrow.  
>Harry thought of his mothers final words and felt the need to help the grieving woman, who sat drinking her tea, looking absent and disconnected.<br>"But, Mrs Weasley.." Harry started, Mrs Weasley looked up at him, "It isn't all over. It feels like it is, but, well, i've done this before, you know?" She looked confused, Harry clarified, "I've lost people. Lots of them, in fact. But Sirius once told me that we never really lose people, even if they die, because we can always find them within us, and, er, I guess that makes me feel better sometimes," Harry stammered to an uncomfortable end, and searched Mrs Weasley's face to see if he had gone too far in his attempts to comfort her.  
>Molly Weasley smiled. For this first time since Fred had died, she smiled; a genuine, happy smile.<br>"You know, Harry.." she stood up and went around the kitchen table to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, "You really have seen so much, we forget, sometimes, what you've been through. You are so very wise," another tear escaped and rolled down her cheek, "And, I am so very blessed to have you as part of my family,". With that, Harry stood and hugged her.

As they embraced, the youthful grin of Fred Weasley flickered behind Molly Weasley's eyelids. Behind Harry's, were the happy smiling faces of Lily and James Potter.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ: And thats it. From a Doe to a Fawn is entirely finished. I am starting on a new project very soon and I hope you will all enjoy it. Please review telling me thoughts on this completed story and any/all future story suggestions! I need ideas! Thanks again SO much for reading, this has been my first completed fiction and I have enjoyed it so much, purely thanks to those who have taken the time to give me feedback, it really is the only thing that keeps me writing. **

**Luannie.**

**Oh, and if you enjoyed this, I posted a one shot of a letter Lily wrote to Petunia, similar to the ones she wrote to Harry in this story. It's called 'Remember My Last' - please give it a read.**


End file.
